Her Boys
by PwnedByPineapple
Summary: Chicks dig bromance, and Natasha, despite the denial, is no exception. These boys have a way of breaking down steel walls without even trying. Sister/bro-fic, with commentary by big sister!Natasha and team fluff.


**Title:** Her Boys  
**Author:** PwnedByPineapple  
**Summary: **_Chicks dig bromance, and Natasha, despite the denial, is no exception. These boys have a way of breaking down steel walls without even trying. Sister/bro-fic, with commentary by big-sister!Natasha and team fluff.  
_**Rating/Warning(s):** K+; none  
**Notes:** I wanted to do a bro-fic, but I didn't want to leave Tasha out because she's my favorite Avenger. So this happened. Headcanon puts this at a hypothetical time when they're all chilling together in Tony's tower and doing superhero things.

**Disclaimer: This fangirl owns nothing.**

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She tells herself that ingrained habit prompts her observations of them and not because she actually _enjoys_ said observations. Natasha Romanoff knows that love is for children, that attachments are not worth forming, and that affection belongs with those who can afford it. There is a certain loyalty owed to comrades that she gives to them wholeheartedly... but that is the extent, the limit of what she'll open to them.

It _almost_ convinces that treacherous innermost place within her.

The boys have a way about each other that she might envy, if it wasn't so intriguing. Of course, her interest is in no way personal, but it's difficult to deny the unfamiliar feelings that they bring too close to the surface. These feelings are tricky to analyze properly, in part because so much of her time is spent around the boys, and the emotions only seem to grow in their presence. She chalks it up to regrettable feminine instinct. Being one to utilize her gender to its full potential, she's come to accept the problems that accompany it, but it soon becomes clear that this is one less easily handled. Damn these boys.

It's first noticeable between Tony and Bruce, as _that_ is rather obvious from the start. It isn't uncommon to find them in the lab together, or having lengthy discussions over breakfast, using the kind of language that causes Clint to mutter about genius jargon. Even Bruce's other guy seems to be unusually protective over Tony, to say nothing of how Tony makes every discreet effort to put Bruce at ease and make him feel welcome; Natasha would almost be envious of their connection if it wasn't so - dare she say it - cute. But again, that's just her feminine side speaking, and she knows how to separate herself from it.

Or so she thinks.

Separating from it becomes harder when she looks a little farther, and she pretends that her continued observations are only instinctive... and necessary if she's to understand her comrades. One would think that there isn't anything similar between Tony and Steve, but that's only the surface, and a little scrutiny makes it plain that they rely on each other more than either of them will admit. Tony is, of course, a terrible influence on the sometimes-guileless Steve, and occasionally Natasha has to step in to make sure that further culture shocks don't rattle the hapless Rogers too badly. More times than not she also has to deal with their arguments as well, and though Natasha pretends to be annoyed and often _is_, she can't help but smile - to herself, of course - when she sees the two of them actually getting along... which happens more often that one would think.

And then there's Thor, who seems inclined to establish some kind of warrior-like brotherly bond with everyone. He takes culture shocks much better than Steve, usually reacting with curiosity or amusement rather than alarm, and occasionally Natasha finds Thor and Steve puzzling over something together with an amusing kind of cluelessness that actually gives her the appalling inclination to giggle. _Her._ Giggle. Like a little girl. It's ridiculous, really. Not to mention the times when she finds Thor and Clint having target games and trying to outmatch each other's aim, which invariably ends with something getting broken and someone yelling about arrows in their belongings. Thor's also the most self-sacrificial among them, next to Steve - taking hits for the others more often than not, and Natasha's concern over this seems to be rooted in more than just the nature of comradeship.

Her own feelings are, for a while, perplexing, but as she watches them more, she begins to understand where it comes from. There's Bruce, who seems determined to distance himself from the others - for their safety, Natasha knows - but no one wants to let him. It's not just Tony in that respect; it's Steve's quiet acceptance and Thor's boisterous insistence on inclusion and even Clint's casual, lightly teasing manner. Natasha finds that she relates to Bruce in this respect; he, like her, cannot help but be drawn in by this, and she can tell that his own manner becomes easier and more relaxed as time goes by. She finds herself wondering if it helps him to stay calm.

Natasha has understood her own emotions by the time she makes this observation, but her acceptance of them comes slower - until she turns her attention to Clint. He, more than the others, surprises her; it's because of the kind of people they are, him and her, trained to distance themselves from affection in order to work more efficiently. But Clint soon enough takes to their team or family or whatever one can call it, to the point of becoming thoroughly invested in protecting them and with more than enough willingness. Perhaps that's because of the instinctive human yearning for companionship that Natasha herself has come to re-realize... but she sees the way Clint molds himself to this group like the others do, and she finds that she wants the same.

And to her surprise, she realizes - when she takes a step back from her examination of the others - that she _does_ have the same.

Her world has always been unbalanced in terms of gender, and Natasha has never wanted special treatment for being a woman. She often receives it regardless, and she's become skilled at turning it to her own advantage, but this time is different. The boys make no distinction on the battlefield; rather, it's only during the quiet times that she notices it.

In the way Steve embodies the values of his lost time and unthinkingly holds the door for her, gives her a quiet respect, a kind of precedence that she _should_ be irritated by. Only she isn't - she finds herself appreciating it, finds it almost endearing. It's also in the way Thor does almost the same, though there's something more knightly about it - Natasha gets the impression that he thinks of her as a sister-warrior, and she comes to share the sentiment. Then there's Tony; her first encounters with him were distinctly womanizing, but he's more natural now - snarky, wisecracking back and forth with her, but also occasionally delivering compliments that lack his usual flirtation... and eventually she realizes that it's a sign of respect. There's also Clint, with whom she's had a comradeship for far longer - but now, there's something easier between them, an affection he gives that actually makes her smile. And then there's Bruce; Natasha isn't that surprised to discover what is possibly the most natural relationship between them. There's a simple, unspoken understanding there, and she's pleased when Bruce begins to seek out her company on occasion, even if it's just to ask her how she is or show her something he's been working on.

'One of the guys' is, quite frankly, a stupid cliché, but it's about the simplest way Natasha can describe it. It's what these little actions make her feel, as dangerously sentimental as it is, and soon enough, she stops fighting it. Because she can't help but feel the same way, even though she isn't quite sure when _the_ boys become _her_ boys. Regardless, the change is there, is practically inevitable, and it's the reason for her affection for and protectiveness over Steve, her ease with and respect for Tony, her worry for and companionship with Thor, her connection with and lack of fear of Bruce, and her deepening relationship with Clint. It's the reason she comes to care.

It's not quite motherly, she finally decides. That's often the word attributed to feelings such as hers, but 'motherly' is the last adjective Natasha would pick to describe herself. No - it's closer to sisterly, she supposes. Her boys are, for lack of a better explanation, surrogate brothers, and even though some of them are older, they're all little brothers to her. Brothers to protect and argue with and both love and hate, brothers in a way she has never experienced before. It reaches to something deep inside her, and she knows that there's no escaping it. They broke down her walls without even trying.

_Love is for children_, Natasha had once said. It's a sentiment by which she still stands, because maybe, maybe... this little makeshift, impossible family reaches to the children in all of them, even her. And maybe, just maybe... that's a good thing. Even though it's guaranteed to come with pain, she thinks, perhaps, that they all need it... and her most of all.


End file.
